


Everything I Have

by its_me_smol_steve



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Artist!Steve, Author!Bucky, Fluff, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, SO MUCH FLUFF, Song-Angel With A Shotgun, The Cab - Freeform, This is really just shameless fluff, but its me so are you really surprised, i don't know what to tell you, like seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:47:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_me_smol_steve/pseuds/its_me_smol_steve
Summary: Based on the song "Angel With a Shotgun" by The Cab. Based on the prompt where Characters A and B shower at the same time and duet together all the time, but never meet... until one day they do.





	Everything I Have

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *posted a whole chapter about how I won't be posting for a while*  
> Also me: *posts this two days later*
> 
> Great job listening, brain, seriously.
> 
> Anyways. Like I sad in the tags, this is just some shameless fluff that I'm actually really proud of.

He took a shower at the same time each morning. So did the person beside him. He knew this because the water got colder for a minute, and more often than not, Mystery Guy would start singing with him. He had a nice voice.

Today Steve decided to test him. He'd developed somewhat of a squish on the guy, but this couldn't happen if he didn't know "Angel With a Shotgun."

Steve decided to skip the very beginning, starting with, "I'm an angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun. I'm an angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun."

The Mystery Guy didn't react verbally, so Steve didn't know what else to do rather than continue. "Get out your guns, battle's begun, are you a saint or a sinner?"

The guy chuckled and continued. "If love's a fight, then I shall die, with my heart on a trigger."

Steve grinned and joined in, "They say before you start a war, you better know what you're fighting for. Well baby you are all that I adore, if love is what you need, a soldier I will be."

He let Mystery Guy take point on the chorus. "I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, I don't care if heaven won't take me back. I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe, don't you know you're everything I have? And I, wanna live not just survive, tonight."

Steve whistled appreciatively at the run he did on the last line and joined back in. "Sometimes to win, you've got to sin, don't mean I'm not a believer. And Major Tom, will sing along, yeah, they still say I'm a dreamer."

Back to Mystery Guy, because Steve wanted to solo the next chorus. "They say before you start a war, you'd better know what you're fighting for, well baby you are all that I adore, if love is what you need, a soldier I will be."

"I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, I don't care if heaven won't take me back. I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe, don't you know you're everything I have? And I, wanna live not just survive, tonight."

The guy laughed gleefully at Steve's run, and they sang together. "I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, I don't care if heaven won't take me back. I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, I don't care if heaven won't take me back. I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe, don't you know you're everything I have?" Here the Mystery Guy broke off to sing the background vocals.

"I'm an angel with a shotgun."

"And I, want to live not just survive, tonight."

"Live, not just survive."

He joined back in for the next line. "And I'm gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight. They say before you start a war, you'd better know what you're fighting for, baby you are all that I adore, if love is what you need, a soldier I will be."

They stood in silence for a minute before Mystery Guy gave a little chuckle. "Alright," he said. "That was fun. Good music taste."

"Yeah, you too. You've got pipes, man, that was nice."

"Thanks," he laughed. "You too." Then, with a hint of a smile in his voice, "Same time tomorrow?"

Steve laughed. "You know it."

"Cool. Catch ya later." The shower curtain pulled aside, and bare feet slapped against wet tile as he walked away.

"Dammit," Steve muttered. He wanted to actually meet the guy.

He hurried with the rest of his shower and quickly dried off, pulling his slightly damp clothes on. He really needed to stop bringing them into the stall with him.

He rushed back to his apartment and quickly ate before hurrying out again. He didn't have normal hours, like most people, but he was an artist, and he had been inspired that morning.

He almost ran into someone on his way to the elevator. "Sorry," he said, and was about to hurry on when he recognized the song the brunet was whistling. "You!"

"Me," the brunet agreed, raising a brow and walking with him to the elevator.

Steve chuckled, "Sorry, you caught me off guard and I was thinking about something else." He grinned and extended his hand. "Steve."

"Bucky," he said. "We're neighbors?"

"Looks like it. I wonder how we've never seen each other before now?"

Bucky gave him a wry smile, "I don't leave my apartment most days. I'm a writer, the only reason I leave is food or to meet with my editor."

Steve laughed, "I'm an artist, so I don't hold regular hours. I'm on my way to my studio right now."

"Yeah? Where's that?"

Steve hummed, "Off of sixth. You ever see that little building in between the two bigger ones? One's a bank, the other's some type of women's clothing?"

"Yeah, I know the place."

"My studio's on the second floor. I usually try to keep regular hours, but like I said, it's difficult since I'm the type that waits for inspiration."

"So do you just head up there every morning and hope?"

"Mostly," Steve admitted with a laugh. "Mostly it's touching up other things. I've got an open door, if you ever get writer's block. I can't promise I'll be there but give it twenty minutes and I'll be back."

"Yeah? I might take you up on that offer." Bucky chuckled, "I've been stuck in a rut for close to a week now. I'm seeing blank pages in my sleep."

Steve winced in sympathy, "I know the feeling. What're you up to right now?"

"Going to see my friend. She's a little redheaded spitfire and always knows what I need."

Steve laughed, "Sounds like my friend Natasha."

Bucky stopped and stared at him. "I'm gonna kill her." He continued walking, "I'm gonna kill that Romanoff. How did she know both of us and never think we should meet."

Steve winced. "That might actually be my fault. She kept trying to set me up with people until I told her I'd had enough."

Bucky laughed, "She would, wouldn't she? Oh my god."

"She did," Steve said, his own grin growing. "Guess I'll see you around, huh? Tell Tasha hi for me."

"She lets you call her Tasha?"

"Nope." Steve grinned, "I do it anyways."

"Pal, you're playing with fire. One of these days you're gonna get burned."

"I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, that's what she wants you to think." He chuckled and shook his head, "See ya later, Steve."

"Bye, Bucky."

* * *

A couple days later, Bucky made good on his promise to come visit Steve. He knocked on the open door and tentatively stepped in, whistling at the canvases.

"I know, it's a mess," Steve said wryly, running a hand through his hair and freezing before bringing it down to see little smudges of green left on his palm. "Dammit."

Bucky laughed and stepped closer. "C'mere." He angled Steve's head towards him, then shook his head. "It's fine, just go wash in the sink real quick before it dries."

"I feel so stupid," Steve muttered, head in the sink.

"Don't worry, you look stupid, too." Bucky grinned. "Hey, have you eaten lunch yet?"

"Nah, I just had breakfast a little bit ago."

"Define a little bit ago."

"Like, nine?"

"Steve, it's noon."

"It what?" He tried to lift his head and banged it against the faucet. "Ow, shit. It's noon?"

"Yeah." Bucky laughed and grabbed a hand towel for him before moving past to open up the little fridge. "Anything in here still good?"

"Probably not," Steve sighed. "I've been walking around and getting food on the way back this week. All that's at least a couple weeks old."

"Steve," Bucky declared, shutting the fridge, "you're a disaster."

"I know," Steve sighed. "Come on, I can come back to this later. Let's go grab lunch."

"Sounds good. What're you in the mood for?"

A shrug, "I'm really not picky."

"Tacos?"

He grinned at the brunet. "Only from Papi's."

Bucky looked affronted. "What kinda heathen do you take me for? Of course we'd go to Papi's."

Steve grinned and threw the towel at Bucky's face. "Race ya!"

Bucky laughed as he dodged the towel and took off directly on Steve's heels.

Once seated at the restaurant, Bucky put his menu down and looked at Steve. "So I wanted to ask you something. You said Natasha kept trying to set you up?"

"Yeah, and I kept declining."

"You also said it's your fault we'd never met before. Are you gay?"

Steve shrugged and returned to his menu. "I'm bi, actually, but I've always seen myself ending up with a guy." He looked up at Bucky questioningly, "Is that gonna be a problem?"

Bucky laughed, "That would be pretty hypocritical of me, considering I'm gay."

Steve shrugged, "I've known some biphobic gays. I'm glad you're not one of them."

"Okay, I'm sorry, but what the hell? I don't understand how people, especially in the community, can not like other people. It makes no sense."

Steve threw his hands up. "Exactly! And yet more often than not, I'd come out to my friends," he put air quotes around the word 'friends,' "and they'd say something along the lines of 'that's not possible, it's one or the other, you can't like both!' Like I'm sorry I like cake and pie, I didn't know that wasn't allowed." He crossed his arms.

Bucky laughed, "Cake and pie. I love that. I get it, though. Mostly it was just homophobic friends that I lost." He shrugged, and Steve copied him.

"Homophobic friends aren't friends you want, anyways."

"Yeah." A sigh, "How about homophobic parents?" He smirked and leaned back. "I came out to them once I moved out, and it was the right decision. They disowned me."

"Damn," Steve said softly. "I'm glad I don't understand that, honestly. My dad died when I was really little. Mom died a couple years ago, but she knew." He gave a little laugh, "She'd always try to set me up with people she thought I'd like. Guy or girl, it didn't matter."

"I wish," Bucky said. "She sounds great. I'm sorry."

"It's been a few years, so I'm mostly alright now." He offered a lopsided smile. "Enough morbid talk, c'mon. What have you written? Anything I would've read?"

Bucky sighed, considering, "I don't know what you read. I write a lot of war stories. Right now I'm writing about this group of ragtag heroes changing the course of World War Two, ensuring the Allies' victory."

"That sounds interesting. That's a work in progress, though, right? Anything published I might've read?"

Bucky drummed his fingers on the table absentmindedly. "Maybe. I did the Revenger series a while back. That's mostly kept me going while I try to write this one."

"I remember that one! In space, right? Trying to get back to Earth?"

"Yeah, that one. I think most people have at least heard of it."

"Yeah, I read the whole series." Steve's brow furrowed, "Remind me, though, Bucky wasn't the name on the cover, was it?"

"No." He chuckled, "My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky is a childhood nickname based on my middle name." He leaned forward, expression teasing. "How about you, Steve? Any works I would've seen?"

"I don't know, honestly. My name's Steven Grant Rogers. My friends call me Steve, my critics know me as Grant Rogers."

"Oh my god," Bucky said, and started to laugh. "Natasha bought me one of your pieces. It's hanging in my living room."

"No way!" Steve chuckled. "Which one?"

"I don't know the name of it. It's got a bunch of grays and blacks and whites with some reds thrown in. Kind of... slashy? I don't know how to describe it."

"Yeah, I know the one you mean. I think it was called Winter's Blood, but that's really just what the critics call it. They're the only ones to use the names. I just describe them like you did." He chuckles, "is 'slashy' even a word? I thought you were a writer."

"I am!" He protested. "Like I said, I've been stuck in a rut. My brain's just not here eighty percent of the time."

"I know the feeling. I'm working on an underwater-themed piece right now, for a friend's birthday, and I'm trying to figure out how the hell to make the green streaks look like seaweed."

Bucky laughed, and Steve frowned. "C'mon, don't give me that look. How about this, I think we both need some new perspective. I'll look at yours and you look at mine. Deal?"

"Deal," Steve nodded, and picked up his menu again.

* * *

  
"Okay," Bucky said, tilting his head as he stared at the canvas, then the sketches laid out, then the pictures of seaweed. "I think I have an idea. Seaweed isn't straight up-and-down, it spirals. And some parts are darker than others." He traced one of the seaweed pictures, then tapped a sketch. "Put some swoops here, in a slightly lighter green." He traced it with his finger. "See? It'll be a little different from the bold, harsh strokes you usually use, but I think it'll work."

"So if I did this..." Steve trailed off, grabbing two green colored pencils. He flipped over a sketch and started shading in the seaweed, then went back over with the lighter color and curved it like Bucky suggested. "That could work. Or maybe..."

Bucky chuckled as the blond worked, knowing how it felt to finally be in the zone after having been stumped for what seemed like forever.

"This!" Steve exclaimed, and shoved the paper in Bucky's face.

Bucky stepped back and looked at it. Instead of curving like he had suggested, Steve had done short strokes alternating on either side of the seaweed with the lighter green. "That works too, yeah. It's more uniform that way for sure, and more your usual style." He grinned at Steve, "You're welcome."

"God, yeah, thank you. I'd still be stuck if it weren't for you." He grinned, "Did you still want help with your book?"

"If you don't mind. Everything's at my apartment, though."

Steve shrugged, "It's a nice day for a walk. And yeah, I know what to do now. That doesn't mean I'm inspired yet. I'm still stuck waiting. You ready?"

"Sure," Bucky said, and they set off. On the way, Bucky started telling Steve about the story. "It's from the point of view of this guy named Sebastian. He gets drafted into the war, and he makes his way through the ranks to become one of the best snipers on the East coast. His best friend, Chris, is still at home because he's got basically everything wrong with him. He's a shrimp of a guy with the biggest heart of gold. A scientist overhears Chris and Sebastian talking, and he decided to take Chris in as his guinea pig. He gets what is essentially a super-soldier serum and his appearance finally matches his heart and personality. He and Sebastian meet up in the war again, this time with Chris as Sebastian's SO, which is really just a title at this point. They're pretty much equals. Anyways, they gather this group and go out on these missions that slowly but surely changes the war in the Allies' favor. I've detailed a few of their missions, but mostly they're described in little one- or two-paragraph snapshots. Where I'm stuck right now is basically in the middle of a mission. I feel like I could keep going with it, but I want something drastic to happen. I just don't know what. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Steve nodded. "Mind if I read the last chapter or so, to kind of get a feel for what you're doing?"

"Please," Bucky nodded.

They arrived at Bucky's apartment, and the brunet turned on his computer and clicked to the correct screen, gathering papers as it boots up. "I wrote down a couple of ideas I had, but none of them make sense in the context of the story."

Steve looks over the paper and nods. "Yeah, I don't think Chris would've let Sebastian be a Nazi." He chuckled, sitting down at Bucky's desk and scrolling up until he found the beginning of the chapter. He read in silence for a couple minutes before asking, "So all these characters... Dum Dum, Dernier, Jacques... they're part of the team?"

"Yes. The only one not officially part of the team is Hayley, but she's a badass who could do whatever she sets her mind to. She's basically Chris's SO."

"SO, like..." Steve turned away from the computer, searching for the correct words.

"His superior officer. I'm thinking of making Chris and Sebastian a thing. SO in both senses."

Steve laughed, "I love it. Okay, let me read then, now that I know who all these people are." He laughed again and turned back to the computer.

Bucky switched from checking Steve's progress over his shoulder to messing with the papers to puttering around behind him. "Sit down, Bucky," Steve finally said, turning around to face him. "I understand the nerves. Really, I do. But the more distracting you are, the longer it's gonna take me to finish, and the more nervous you're gonna get. Should I take this next door?" He motions to the laptop and various papers. "Is that gonna help?"

"No. I'm sorry, you're right." He shook his head, "I'll find something to do that's less distracting."

"Hey," Steve said, and he looked slightly worried. "It's really good. I like it a lot. I'm just trying to take my time and understand the characters so I can help you. Okay?"

"I know," Bucky said quietly. "And thank you. I really do appreciate it." Steve nodded with a smile before turning back to face the computer.

Twenty minutes later, he sat back and stretched, turning around to face Bucky. "Okay. Damn, that's intense. It's really good. Uh, as for where you're stuck. The best advice I ever heard was to kill someone off, not to go all George R. R. Martin on you. So what about this." He mentioned Bucky closer and turned back to the computer, scrolling up. "What if here, instead of Chris picking up the shield, it's Sebastian? He doesn't know how to use it as well, he's not as strong, and the gun that blasts a hole in the train hits the shield. They go flying opposite directions, the shield towards Chris, and Sebastian towards the hole. You see what I mean? He manages to grab onto a bar or something, but it snaps right as Chris's reaching for him. He falls off the cliff. Make sense?"

Bucky nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "It's a great idea, and I'd use it, but the entire story so far is Sebastian's point of view. Would I switch to Chris's here?"

"How long is it so far?"

Bucky shrugged, "Four, five chapters? I need quite a few more."

"Then add some of Chris's points of view in there. Write his struggle when he can't follow Sebastian, write the experiment with the scientist when he becomes Captain America, write him meeting up with Sebastian and picking the rest of their team. Put those in between Sebastian's chapters. Then, after Sebastian falls, it'll be just Chris's perspective. Am I making any sense?"

"Tons, yeah, hang on." He clicked on a couple things, absentmindedly sitting down when Steve got up. He started typing down the ideas with Steve watching.

He didn't notice when Steve left, and he didn't notice the puttering around in the kitchen. He barely acknowledged the smells: garlic, onion, beef, and tomato sauce.

"Bucky," Steve finally said.

It took a minute for the soft, "Hm?" to reach his ears.

"Bucky."

"Wha?"

" _Bucky_."

Bucky startled and turned to face Steve. "Yeah, sorry, what?"

Steve chuckled, "I made dinner. You did a little bit more than just writing down the notes."

"Yeah, sorry," he said again, groaning as he scrubbed his hands down his face. "Jesus. How long was I writing?"

Steve checked his watch and shrugged. "About an hour and a half. I watched you for part of it, got the idea you were in the zone, and decided to look around and see what I could make. There's spaghetti and meatballs if you want it."

"Oh my god, you're perfect," Bucky laughed, stretching. "Yeah. It smells amazing."

"Thanks," Steve laughed. "It's an old family recipe. My mom taught me."

"Yeah?" Bucky turned interested eyes on him.

"Yeah. We lived next to this old Italian chef. Best spaghetti and meatballs I've ever had."

Bucky frowned. "I thought you said it was an old family recipe?"

"I did." Steve grinned, "I never said it was our old family recipe." He laughed at Bucky's groan.

* * *

  
It soon became commonplace to find them at each other's apartment. They still showered at the same time, and still sang more often than not, but after work Steve crashed at Bucky's, or Bucky stayed the afternoon with Steve and they both went back to Steve's apartment to watch TV and find something to eat.

"Can you believe," Steve said one time as he was finishing up a painting, "there was a time we didn't know each other."

Bucky blinked. "Damn, you're right. How long ago was that?"

Steve laughed, "Like four months. I was a fool to turn down Natasha's offer of a date." He stiffened and turned slowly to see an odd expression on Bucky's face. "Uh, forget I said that?"

"Yeah, not a chance." Bucky walked over and leaned against the wall to look at Steve as he kept working. "You wouldn't've said no to a date with me?"

"No."

"Would you say no now?"

Steve looked at him, opened his mouth, then shut it, looked away, and shook his head. "Okay. Hey Steve, wanna go on a date?"

Steve looked at him again, eyebrows raised. "You serious?"

Bucky smiled, "Yeah. I am."

Steve grinned back. "In that case, I'd love to, Buck."

"What about tomorrow night we go back to where it all really began, Papi's."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"I am, too," Bucky smiled, going back to sit on the couch they'd dragged in a couple months ago so Bucky could work while Steve did.

That night, Bucky texted Natasha. "Hey, I'm coming over."

"Door's unlocked." Came the immediate response, and Bucky grinned at his phone.

"What's up?" She said from her position on the couch, head hanging over the edge. Bucky grinned as he walked over.

"Your shirt," he said, and pulled the hem down to meet her waist from where it was bunched up.

"Smartass," she muttered, sitting up somewhat so she could see him. "Seriously though, what's going on?"  
  
"Well, you know I met Steve."

"Yup."

"We're going on a date tomorrow."

Her brows raised. "It's been what, four months?"

"Yeah," Bucky nodded. "We were talking today about how crazy it is. We've integrated seamlessly into each other's lives. It's insane to think just four months ago we didn't know the other existed."

"Yup." Natasha said again, and sat up. "So why are you here?"

"I don't know. You always know what to say."

"Did Steve tell you I kept trying to set him up with people?"

"Like the first day we met, yeah." He laughed.

"It's because I knew you two would get along great. And you do. Now you just get incredible sex along with incredible friendship." She shrugged as Bucky groaned.

"Oh my god, Natasha."

"What? I'm not wrong."

"You're also not helping."

She sat up completely and faced him. "James, I swear to God, you listen to me or I will do unspeakable things to you, understand? You like him. He likes you. I knew this before you even knew each other. Have I ever been wrong before?"

"No," he grudgingly admitted.

"Then trust me on this, okay?"

"Okay. I'll try."

"Good," she smiled. "Now go grab us some beers, we need a drink."

"Amen to that," he said, and walked to her kitchen.

"We need to talk." Buzzed her phone from Steve. "Meet tomorrow @ lunch?"

"Sure." She sent back, and smiled.

"Natasha," Steve said breathlessly the next day, "why the hell did you not tell me about Bucky?"

She grinned. "He's great, isn't he?"

"He is." Steve's look turned dreamy. "He's so smart and funny. And he's real! People aren't real anymore." He focused on her again, "Seriously. You've forced me before. Why didn't you this time?"

She shrugged. "Would you believe me if I told you it wasn't the right time?"

He regarded her, then sighed. "Unfortunately I would."

She just smiled at him. "That's why." She changed subjects, "Finish Sam's present yet?"

"Only just. Bucky helped with the seaweed."

"Bucky's shit at drawing."

"I know. But he has good ideas. I didn't know how to make the green streaks look more like seaweed, and he had the idea of layering a lighter green over parts of it."

"You do realize I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Right." Steve nodded, "Suffice it to say Bucky helped a bunch."

"You think you two are a good match?"

"I think we could be for sure. We already act like we've known each other for years."

Natasha hummed. "He said the same thing last night."

Steve blinked. "He came here last night?"

"He did." She took a sip of her drink. "He had the same questions you do, only neither of you will say them. Like, why me? Why'd he pick me? He's so smart and funny and talented! Why would he like me?"

"I didn't say that!" Steve protested.

"No," she agreed, "but you thought it. Don't even try to argue with me on this. Listen, all you need to do is tell him what you would need to hear. You two are more alike than you think."

"I know how alike we are," Steve said quietly. "I'm scared about the parts that are different."

"Well, opposites attract. Trust me, Steve. This was meant to happen, and it will. Okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, watching her take another drink. "Hey, are you hungry?"

"Starved," she grinned. "Let's go to Mary's."  
  
"Sounds good," Steve smiled, and off they went.

* * *

  
"Hey, Buck," Steve grinned when he saw him sitting at the table.

"Steve," Bucky smiled, and stood to hug him. "You finished your project? Or you're okay to step away for a little bit? I don't mind taking this to go and heading back to your studio."

"That's nice, but I'm fine, Buck. I actually got more done than I thought I would, so I'm ahead of schedule. I need a break anyways." He chuckled, and Bucky laughed too.

"So," started the brunet. "Four months."

"Four months," Steve agreed, nodding. "It's crazy."

"It is." Bucky sighed, "And this is boring. We have great conversations all the time, and now it's all gone."

Steve laughed. "And it'll be back as soon as we get our food."

"It's always the way," Bucky agreed, and crunched a chip.

"You know what I don't understand?" Steve asked, shaking a chip at Bucky. "These are the same chips as the store bought kind. Why do these taste better?"

Bucky hummed in thought. "I dunno. Maybe the oil they fry it in? Or the fact that they're fresh? Everything's better fresh."

"That's true," Steve allowed, and just then their waiter came over.

Dinner was uneventful, and after they sat, staring at each other, before Steve grinned. "Bowling?"

"You know I suck."

"You know I'm not much better."

Bucky narrowed his eyes, then countered, " _Star Trek_ marathon."

Steve laughed, "You're such a nerd. Yeah, let's do that."

"You're just as big a nerd as I am, pal."

"Never said I wasn't," Steve grinned, and Bucky returned the look.

* * *

  
Another four months found them in Papi's again, talking animatedly. The waiter came and left, brought their food, and left them for a while. Steve was getting noticeably nervous.  
  
Bucky was really the only one who would have noticed, though. "Babe, are you okay? Do you want to go finish Nat's present? I know I say this a lot, but I really don't mind packing it up and heading over to the studio."

"It's fine," Steve shook his head, and fell quiet again for a minute.

"You know," he began after a couple of bites, "we've known each other for roughly eight months now. Four months in we decided to give dating a chance, and I really like where it turned out."

"Me too," Bucky said quietly, smiling at him.

"But..." he shook his head and sighed, "I can't help the feeling that something needs to change. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. There's something I wanted to discuss with you, though."

He sighed, steeling himself, and got down on one knee, holding up a box. "James Buchanan Barnes, will you marry me?"

"You absolute idiot," he hissed, eyes shining. "How could I say no?" He laughed and wiped his face. "Is this what had you all worked up?"

Steve smiled as he stood up and opened the box to reveal a watch. "Yeah. I know it seems kinda stupid, but I really wanted it to be perfect."

Bucky laughed, "It was. And this is incredible," he said, admiring the watch.

They suddenly became aware of people clapping, and they looked around to see all of the people at the neighboring tables applauding.

"Well go on," one older woman said. "Kiss him!"  
Steve laughed and bent down to capture Bucky's lips in his, smiling as the applause grew even louder.

"I love you," Bucky said quietly as they pulled apart.

"I love you, too."

* * *

  
"Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah," came over the speakers, and Bucky grinned, ducking his head.

"Of course this is the song you chose," he said, and Steve chuckled.

"I'm just glad you let me choose the first song and didn't ask to see it. I would've let you, but then it wouldn't have been a surprise."

"Hey, I promised for better or for worse just a couple minutes ago. I promised a hell of a lot more," he said sincerely. "I promised you all of me, knowing I'd get all of you in return. And there's not one part of you I don't like."

"No second thoughts?" Steve grinned, but Bucky saw right through him.

"Not a single one. I'd do this over again in a heartbeat. I choose you, good and bad. I choose you sitting motionless for hours because you're reading my drafts. I choose you when you're drifting off in the middle of a word because you get so invested in your art. I choose you when you're making dinner for us, and I choose you when it's midnight and you've forgotten to eat since lunch. I choose all of you, Steve."

"You know I choose all of you, too, Buck," Steve said, and blinked away wetness.

"I know." Bucky leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. "And thank you for singing in the shower."

"Thank you for singing back."

"And I'm gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight."  
  
"I love you, Steve."

"I love you too, Bucky."

"Baby, you are all that I adore, if love is what you need, a soldier I will be."  
  
"That was actually really sweet," Natasha said, stepping up to them. Not for the first time that night, they were blown away by her look. Far from her usual hoodie and sweats, she had her hair carefully curled in an updo, and a sparkly black dress on. Her silver heels matched her clutch and jewelry.

"Thanks," Steve chuckled. "Did you happen to get any pictures?"

She pulled a face. "What am I, your photographer?" She grinned and held up their phones. "I gotcha covered."

"Natasha," Bucky sighed. "What have we said about taking things off of our persons?"

"It's a special occasion, it's fine," she waved them off. "Now c'mon, who am I dancing with first?"

"Go find Peggy," Bucky nudged Steve. "I know you want to. We'll switch after."

"Okay," Steve agreed, and walked off after one last kiss to Bucky's cheek, and a hug from Natasha.

"I hope you're ready for the shovel talk," she warned, and Bucky laughed.

"Shouldn't Sam be giving me the shovel talk, since he was Steve's best man?"

"He could, but he sucks at it."

"No argument there."

"Listen, Rogers," she said, and he grinned. "Yeah, I know, new last name. I love you, you know this, but I also will not hesitate to severely injure you if you hurt him in any way. Got it?"

"I know you will," he said. "But you won't have to. If I ever do anything to hurt him, I'll do it myself."

"Yeah, and then once you're healed, I'll hurt you for hurting yourself. There's no way to win this one."

"Except for not hurting him," Bucky grinned cheekily. "Trust me, I get it. Hurting him's the last thing I want to do."

"Good," she said primly. "Now let's dance, Rogers. Then I'm gonna find the other Rogers and give him the same talk."

"He's gonna say the same thing," Bucky laughed.

"Perhaps," she smiled. "But it's my duty. I'm making it my duty."

"Whatever you say," Bucky chuckled.

"Damn straight," she said. "Now spin me and let's dance."

* * *

That night as they lay in bed facing each other, Bucky smiled and started singing softly. "They say before you start a war, you'd better know what you're fighting for."

"Well baby you are all that I adore, if love is what you need, a soldier I will be," Steve finished, moving closer to kiss the brunet. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


End file.
